Calling On Deaf Ears
by AnotherChance
Summary: Events progress, and Tru decides that she has to deal with Jack, one way or another. Warning, eventual character death. On HIATUS due to SEVERE lack of inspiration.
1. Chapter 1

Calling On Deaf Ears

Chapter One:

The overpass was deserted. The darkness of night stretched between the streetlamps. The silence was deafening, broken only by the sounds of two people struggling. In the still of night, a young brunette was fighting for her life.

Her lungs burned for air as she scrambled to free her throat from the strong grip of her assailant. Try as she might, she couldn't get free, and her vision was filling quickly with black spots. He forced her to the hand railing, and pushed harder, bending her backwards over the busy street below. None of the late night commuters saw the struggle for life and death occurring on the deserted pedestrian overpass far above their heads.

Growing weaker, Tru tried one last time to free herself as his grim face loomed in her ever darkening vision. Abandoning her purchase on the ground, she kicked him squarely in the family jewels, and was rewarded when he let go and groaned, clutching the central hub of male thought processes. She was free for the moment. Disoriented and starved for oxygen, she stood dumbly, gasping and swaying, leaning on the railing. Concerned with feeding her brain with much needed air, she didn't notice him recover, stand and stagger over to her.

He grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, disregarding her struggles as she clawed feebly at his arms, all of her remaining strength being used to stay on her two feet.

"I've given you chances and chances and you never took them. Luc was a warning, but you didn't listen. I warned you that I would preserve the natural order of the universe, but you never stopped. I'm sorry it has to end this way." Jack regarded her steadily. "Goodbye."

With a shove he sent her over the hand railing, her scream echoing back at him as she fell, head first into the path of a semi trailer.

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Tru woke screaming. She sat up, gasping as she freed her trapped legs from her sweat soaked sheets. She held her head in her hands, eyes closed, as she fought back tears. The nightmares hadn't stopped for weeks, and it was showing. The bags under her eyes were dark and contrasted sharply with her pale and drawn face. She found herself sleeping more and more at the morgue, for some reason she felt safer with Davis around. It didn't completely dispel the nightmares, however. Thinking of the morgue reminded her that she had a shift forty five minutes, and she had to walk ten blocks to get there.

Collecting herself, she let the soft glow of the sun shining through her curtains calm her. Dragging herself out of bed, Tru made her way over to the vanity in her bathroom, and splashed cold water on her face with hands that shook. She jumped at a knock to the door. Looking through the peephole, she saw Davis standing there, his face distorted and ballooned. She frowned, wondering why he was there.

Opening the door, she tried her hardest to put on a nonchalant expression and asked, "What are you doing here Davis? Shouldn't you be at the morgue cutting up some victim of roadrage or something?"

He looked uncomfortable at seeing his colleague in her pajamas, but managed a reply. "I could ask you the same question. Your shift started fifteen minutes ago."

She looked at him puzzled, "What do you mean? My shift doesn't start until nine thirty. I have another forty five minutes."

"No…. you were meant to start fifteen minutes ago. Its nine forty five."

"What do you mean? It's only eight forty five. I…" Tru looked abashed. "Shit. Daylight savings."

He grinned. "Yep. Daylight savings." He paused, a serious expression replacing his otherwise cheerful grin. "Tru… are you alright?"

'I should win a bloody Oscar for this performance… or is it an Emmy?' She grinned, "Of course Davis, why wouldn't I be?"

He invited himself in from the foyer. Checking things off on his fingers as he went, he stated, "You look like you haven't eaten in days, if the bags under your eyes were any bigger you could go on a shopping spree and still have room to spare, and… you're swaying from side to side." He moved quickly to her side, and, grabbing her arm, guided her to the couch, forcing her to sit. "What's wrong? What's been going on?"

Her hand moving automatically to her forehead as a wave of dizziness waved over her, she tried once again to convince him that she was fine. "Really… it was just a bit of a late night. I'm just a little tired."

His considerate eyes showed his concern and his almost Boy Scout charm led him to half pick up, half drag her over to the bed before she could argue. She almost laughed, but settled for a half smile as she insisted, "Davis, I'm fine. Really. And I'm going to work today, either now or when you leave."

He shrugged simplistically. "I won't leave then."

His beeper cut off her smart reply. He looked downcast, and glanced up at her. "Damnit. The Easter Bunny just died." At her shocked appearance, he added, "The fake one, from the department store… something about an electric cable and some water." He gave her a stern look. "Don't even think about coming in today. I'll take you off the roster and you won't get paid anyway, so there's no point in turning up."

Before she could object he turned and strode purposely through the front door, stopping only to throw a "Get some rest" back at her and close it.

Tru glowered in his wake. 'No way I'm not coming in today. What if the Easter Bunny needs help?'

HeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHeHe

As it turned out, the Easter Bunny didn't need help.

Tru walked through the door, peering around corners, hoping to avoid Davis for as long as possible. A voice cleared behind her. Tru closed her eyes and sighed. 'Show time.' She thought as she turned around, a huge grin on her face. "Told ya I was coming in today."

Davis frowned, about to launch into a long lecture about looking after yourself, when Harrison walked through the door. Giving her a cheesy grin, he held out his hands and did a little twirl. Tru looked him up and down. He was wearing a black suit, white shirt, red tie, and his hair was slicked back, somewhat neat. It looked like he'd even managed to run a comb through his hair.

She whistled. "Looking fine, Har. Can I ask, what is the occasion?"

His grin widened. "Well, sis, now that I'm working for Dad, I have to be presentable. If that means wearing a suit and doing my hair…" He shrugged, grin widening by the second. "Anyway, I'm here to take you to brunch. You can do okay by yourself, can't you Davis?" Without waiting for a response, he grabbed Tru's arm and started pulling her towards the door.

She disentangled herself from his arm and said, "Sorry, Har, I can't."

His face fell. "What, another rewind day?" He called over her shoulder to the Easter Bunny on the cold, metal table, "Leave my sis alone, okay?" And did a double take as he saw the costume lying against the table. Looking to Davis, he asked, "Is that-"

He nodded. "The Easter Bunny. Yes. No, it isn't a rewind, and yes, Tru is available for brunch." Seeing her about to argue, he added, "If you don't go now I'm changing the locks and you won't get another key."

She laughed. "Alright, alright, but after brunch I'm coming back."

LiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLiLi

Brunch with Harrison was unusual. Unusual in that Harrison paid for both his and Tru's, with what looked like money from an ATM, rather than money from another gambler's pocket. Tru's eyebrows shot up when she saw him pull out the wad of cash. "Well, la di da Har. Where'd the moola come from?"

He looked mildly offended. "Hey, I earned this. Got a pay check and everything. See?" He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper that definitely looked like it had come from Harrison's pocket, and stuck it in her face.

"Hey, we should get this framed." She said in all seriousness.

A sarcastic look passed over his face. "Oh ha ha. Very funny."

She laughed and climbed into his car. "Come on, drive me back to work."

He grumbled as he walked around to the right side of the car, hopping in and keying the ignition. The car grumbled, almost started, and finally died. He grinned. "He he… no problem Tru. Won't be a second." He tried again, and frowned when the car didn't immediately spring to life.

Tru groaned and banged her head on the dash. "Did you remember to fill it with gas?"

His face paled, but then he grinned. "Of course I did. Let's open her up and take a look, eh?"

Tru laughed. "Har, you don't know _anything_ about cars. Look, we aren't far from the morgue. Why don't you call a mechanic, and I'll walk back there?"

He frowned. "Let my little sister walk the streets alone?"

She playfully punched him in the arm. "It's like, one thirty in the _afternoon_. I'll be fine. Call a mechanic."

BeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBeBe

The man hit the wheel in frustration. "No, Jason, it's just a red light. No, look, just stay with mommy, okay? I know you don't want to, but you need to… No, I can't come pick you up. I'm on my way to work… I know, it's tough, me working nights but we need the money…Shit!" The man's cell phone dropped to the floor of the car as he went over a speed bump. Reaching down, he took his eyes off of the road, for just a split second as he groped for his phone. When he straightened, his eyes widened. A young girl, barely ten meters ahead of him, frozen to the spot, looking like a deer in the headlights. "Omg!" He swerved to the left, hard, and avoided the young girl.

Unfortunately, he couldn't avoid the school bus, with the banner 'Science Centre' taped to the side. He hit it traveling at fifty miles per hour.

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Tru walked into the morgue, whistling, and stopped short. Her hand went to her mouth as she backed into the door, eyes wide. Davis grimaced as he noticed her presence. "I know. It's tragic, to see kids like this."

There, on the slabs, were three children and two adults, all covered in gashes. Tru pushed herself off of the wall and walked into the office, keeping her eyes studiously off of the corpses. Bodies didn't bother her, but the bodies of three innocent children did.

Tru looked at the time, and turned to Davis. "Time of death?"

"One thirty two. Tru, wha-" Davis looked confused.

"Where? And how?"

"Corner of Fifty-Third and Nineteenth. Why?"

"East or West Fifty-Third?" Her jaw was set purposefully.

"East."

She nodded. "Anything else?"

He shook his head. "Just that the SUV driver's name is Steve Macray, and they were on a bus headed back to school from a field trip to the Science Centre, and one of the guys was driving an SUV, swerved to avoid a young girl and hit the bus instead. Killed the driver, three kids and the bus driver."

She paled, but nodded again. "Alright. Let's hope some one asks for help." She walked over to the bodies, trying not to linger on the children's broken appearance, and stood there, waiting, listening. She could tell Davis was standing there, watching, waiting, hoping.

"Come on… Come on…" Tru whispered. Her eyes flicked to the young girl. Did an arm just move?

Now the youngest looking boy. Did his head just turn? _Yes!_ Tru thought. _Finally!_ Her head whipped around as Davis froze, time appearing to stop. Now, the bus driver. A whispered plea. "Save us." The familiar sensation of being tugged backwards overtook her.

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Tru awoke with a gasp, stood, and threw some clothes on. Grabbing her bag and her keys, she looked at her watch. Nine forty five. That left three hours and forty seven minutes until the crash.

She rushed out of the door, and, seeing Davis walking down the hall, grabbed his arm and led him towards the front door. "I know; late. Here's another thing I know. In just under four hours a SUV is going to collide with a school bus."

He gasped. "How many were killed?"

"The driver, the bus driver, and three kids." He swore and she glanced at him in shock. "What's worse is that witnesses say he swerved to avoid another little kid. So I'll have to be careful about how I do this. Driver's name is Steve Macray."

She walked as she talked, and they were headed out on the streets. Walking briskly towards the morgue, or, as Davis liked to call it privately, 'the Batcave', Tru filled him in on the rest of the details.

He looked thoughtful. "Well, I guess that you'll have to stop the little girl from getting in the way of the SUV… hopefully, that'll stop the crash."

She shook her head. "I need more than hopefully. I need to make sure that bus doesn't leave the Science Centre on time."

"How are you going to do that?" Davis asked.

She walked out of the door as she answered. "I have no idea."

She headed purposefully towards the corner of East Fifty-Third and Nineteenth St, wanting to check out the scene before she did any of the real leg work.

She was preoccupied with the image of the three children lying, dead on the floor, and she didn't notice as someone shadowed her, following her every move. As they moved closer to Fifty-Third the figure closed in on her, grabbed her roughly, hand over her mouth, and dragged her into an alley.

She was shoved against the wall with force enough to make her cry out. Her fear turned to anger when she noticed who it was that attacked her. "Jack!"

"Hey… long time no see. I suppose you're on your way to save the day. Again."

She struggled against his grip, but it was too strong. "Get offa me, death. You aren't gonna stop me."

He put on a hurt expression. "Now now, Tru, is that really a way to treat a friend. I'm just here to offer some advice."

"Let me guess, don't save them, order of the universe…" She snarled. "I've heard that crap, now let me go!"

He looked almost regretful. "So you're going to try then, are you Tru?"

She didn't respond, just struggled some more, painfully aware of the similarities of the situation to her dream. He sighed. "Well I can't let you. I'm sorry Tru." The last thing she saw was his fist coming at her face, before stars erupted behind her temples and darkness took her.

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Jack held the unconscious Tru in his arms, staring at her gaunt and tired looking face. Slowly, he shook his head and walked out onto the street. "I need some help here! She was just lying on the ground, looks like she's been hurt! Someone call 911!" When a suitable number of passersby had surrounded them, he stood up, brushed off his leather duster, and slipped away from the crowd.

He hoped that would be enough to dissuade her. If she tried to save anyone else, he may have to dispose of her, permanently.


	2. Chapter 2

A/n. Ok, sorry to any Americans out there… I have no idea where all of these places are (or if there is even a nineteenth st, for example.) ie, Mercy General is the ONLY hospital I know of in America, so naturally... I'm going to use that, whether its in NYC or not. So there (blows a raspberry)

Chapter 2:

She smelled disinfectant. Groaning, she clutched her aching head.

"Miss! You're awake."

She heard a voice, and cautiously opened her eyes. Wincing at the much too bright fluorescent lights that screamed 'hospital', she let out a little moan and tried to sit up. Meanwhile, the nurse made herself busy pushing her back down again. "Wha- what happened? Where am I?" Tru asked.

The nurse looked on with pity. "You don't remember what happened? You're in the Mercy General Hospital. You were found in an alley. It looks like you were attacked. You have a concussion, and bruising to your face around your eye. Can you tell me your name? We didn't find any ID on you when you were brought in."

Tru's eyes narrowed. "I had my wallet on me before I was attacked… My name's Tru. Tru Davies." It must have been taken when she was attacked.

The nurse nodded and wrote it down. "Now, Miss Davies, do you have a next of kin we can contact?"

She nodded, and gave Harrison's number. Thinking again, she added Davis', asking the nurse to contact them both. Lying back, she tried to think about what had happened. She was walking down Nineteenth Street… why was she walking down Nineteenth Street? A slight frown creased her face, even as Davis rushed into the room. "What happened? What happened to the re-" He cut off as the nurse bustled into the room, with a jug of water.

When she left, he continued, quieter. "What happened with the rewind?"

Tru's frown deepened. "Rewind? I-" It all came back to her and she gasped, struggling to sit up, trying to stand.

"Jack!" She hissed to Davis as he tried to push her down. "It was Jack, he cornered me, tried to get me to give up on today… then he…" She frowned as she tried to remember what had happened after. She added in a whisper, "I think he attacked me… What time is it? Is it one thirty two yet?"

Davis looked at his watch, and the look on his face said it all. "Tru… it's one forty."

She blinked back tears. Three children were dead. All because she hadn't been able to stop it. All because of Jack.

Davis saw her face and moved towards her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. She leaned on him, face in his chest, as sobs racked her body. She hated losing to Jack, and now three children had lost their lives because of it.

That was how Harrison found them, twenty minutes later, when he rushed through the door, new business suit crumpled, his brow sweaty. "Sorry I took so long, traffic's a bitch," He panted. He moved closer to Tru, concerned at seeing his strong sister crying. Gesturing to Davis, the older man passed her over to her brother's embrace. "Shh, Tru, shh… what's wrong? What happened?"

He saw Davis mouth 'Rewind day' to Harrison. Getting up quietly, the morgue director chose his word's carefully. "Tru, I have to get back… I-"

She cut him off, her voice watery. "I know. It's gonna get pretty busy soon. I'll be okay Davis. I- here are the police." She looked towards the door, wiping her eyes dry, as two people in uniforms entered her room. Turning to Davis, she gave him a meaningful look. "Go. You're needed at work." She gave him a weak shove, and as he left his reluctance was obvious on his face.

The two police officers stopped at the foot of her bed. "Hello, Miss Davies. My name is Office Danahue, and this is Office Stevens. We understand you were involved in an incident earlier today…" His dark brown eyes were kind and full of concern.

It was his partner's turn to speak. "Can we speak to you alone?" Turning to Harrison, he looked apologetic. "I'm sorry sir, but it's standard proce-"

Tru cut the officer off. "This is my brother. I want him here."

The officer nodded. "Alright miss. Can you tell us what happened?"

She swallowed, looking to Harrison for support. He rubbed her back comfortingly. "I was walking down Nineteenth Street, and before I knew it, I was being pulled into an alley. I think the guy was following me for a while…" She took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing herself to go on. "He shoved me against the wall. I struggled to get free… but I couldn't. He was too strong. It all gets a little hazy after that. I… I think he punched me."

The officers shared a look. "Did you recognize this man?"

Tru nodded, vengeance on her mind as her voice filled with anger. "His name is Jack Harper. He used to work at the morgue with me."

The two men shared a look. The one who spoke first spoke now. "Thank you Miss Davies. We'll get right on it. I assume you want to press charges?"

She nodded. The man continued. "Alright. We'll get right on finding him, Miss Davies. When we do, you realise that we'll need to go through the courts?"

She nodded. "I'll do what it takes to bring him to justice."

The officers nodded and left the room. Tru flopped back on the pillow, eyes closed as she sighed. Harrison gently disentangled himself from her and stood up. "I'm still awake, you know."

"Heh, sorry sis, I was just going to the vending machine. You want anything?"

She shook her head, eyes still closed, as he walked out of the door.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The doctors had wanted to keep her overnight, for observation. Naturally, Tru couldn't get either her brother, or Davis to help her argue for the 'go home' idea. So as night rolled around, and Tru became more tired, she dropped the argument, and allowed herself to fall asleep.

_They were at the overpass again. Jack was strangling her, choking the life out of her. She struggled, she really did, but he was just too strong. Jack lifted her clear of the railing and gave a little shove, sending her down onto the street below…_

Tru gasped awake, sitting up suddenly. The nurse came over, a look of pity in her eyes. "Bad dream?"

Tru managed a withering glare, even as the lady poured her a glass of water. Sighing, she lay back on her pillows, eyes opened, staring at the ceiling. The nurse looked hesitant. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Tru felt herself shake her head, almost mechanically, as she heard herself answer, "No."

The nurse nodded. "Alright. It's seven am. As soon as your brother gets here to pick you up and sign the discharge papers, you'll be free to go."

Tru frowned. "When'd Har leave?"

"At about ten o'clock. He said he needed to see your friend Davis about something." The nurse answered.

Tru nodded, just as Harrison strolled through the doors, a big bunch of flowers in his hands. Tru looked on, exasperated. "You know, you're supposed to give flowers while the patient is _in_ hospital, not just before they're discharged."

Harrison frowned. "These aren't from me, Dad called, asked me to give them to you. From him. He's out of town, on business…"

Tru nodded. As much as she hated it, her dad was never there, not when she needed him.

After being discharged, Harrison brought a wheelchair to her bed, a big grin on his face. She scowled and walked right past it. "You know, I'm not an invalid. I can walk on my own."

He frowned. "Aww, come on sis! I _never_ get to take care of you, you're always taking care of me! Let me wheel you out."

She shook her head. "Nuh uh. I have some _pride_." She walked towards the door, and grabbed her head as a wave of light-headedness washed over her. Harrison walked behind her and forced her into the wheelchair.

"Now, take it from someone who's actually _had_ a concussion before, you'll want to sit down as much as possible." He said smugly.

Halfheartedly, she reached up over her shoulder to give him a playful whack, but he dodged out of the way. Pulling up to his car door, he made screeching noises, like that of a breaking car. Tru shook her head and tried to hide her face from anyone who may have been watching. Harrison opened the door and gave a slight bow. "Milady."

Tru stood and stepped carefully into the car, wishing for once he had a van or something she didn't have to bend over to get into. She sat back as another wave of dizziness hit her and Harrison returned the wheelchair. Harrison drove home without a word, and as they pulled up in the street in front of her apartment building, Tru asked, "What were you and Davis talking about?"

Harrison was taken off guard, but immediately answered, "Manly things. Football. Uh… Lord of the Rings?"

Tru laughed. "That last one is more like Davis. No really, what?"

His eyes turned dark. "Jack, and how if that little punk ever shows his face again, we're gonna kill him."

Tru's eyes softened. "Thanks, Har, for the thought, but-"

Harrison's eyes flashed, and he helped her out of the car before responding. "No buts, Tru. That bastard kills people. He deserves to get his number handed to him. And I intend to be the one to do it."

Tru nodded, understanding how he felt. Harrison helped her up the stairs to her apartment, patiently waiting when she needed breaks. When they finally reached her floor, and approached her door, they noticed a chunky envelope sitting at the entrance to her apartment. On it was written, 'Tru Davies' in Jack's scrawl. Tru unwillingly took a step back, even as Harrison growled. He stooped down to pick it up, and tore the envelope open. Out fell her keys and her wallet.

Tru bent down unsteadily to pick them up, and checked the contents of her wallet. Seeing a note with the scrawl, 'Remember the warning.' She dropped her wallet like a hot coal. Harrison hugged her, one armed, as he used his own keys to open the door, and lead her inside. Setting her up in bed, he walked back outside and picked up her effects.

Noticing she was already asleep, he sighed, and looked in her fridge. Spying fruit, he cut it up and put it on a plate. Seeing peanut butter, he made himself a sandwich and looked around for more food to put on Tru's plate. Spotting a Crispy Crème on the top shelf, he licked his lips.

Reaching out, he almost brought it to his mouth, but thought better of it. Putting it on the plate next to the fruit, he put the plate back in the fridge.

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Tru awoke to soft light filtering in through her bedroom window. Looking at the clock, she sat up quickly, and just as quickly, lay back down. When the room had stopped spinning, she tried again, slower. Swinging her legs over the bed, she managed to stand and walk to the fridge, her stomach grumbling.

She saw the plate of food that Harrison had made in the fridge, and smiled. Sticking a piece of fruit in her mouth, Tru almost choked when she heard a knock on the door. Looking through the peep hole, she sighed when she saw Davis. She opened her door and let him inside.

The minute he saw her pale face, accentuate by a dark blue bruise, and bags under her eyes, he swept her into a bonecrushing hug. Tru stood there, stiff as a board, unused to her boss showing such emotion. Finally she melted against him and hugged him back. He led her to a chair. "How are you doing?"

She shrugged. "You know… I'm okay…" Even she didn't believe the words coming out of her mouth.

He nodded, as though he expected those words, and continued. "You have the rest of the week off. Do you want longer?" His expression was earnest.

She shook her head. "I want to go back as soon as possible."

He nodded. "You aren't coming back before the end of the week though. That gives you four days, is that long enough?"

She replied evenly, "Two days and I'm back there."

He tried to argue, he really did, but she was too stubborn. He tried to use the 'you won't get paid' excuse, but Tru just got angry.

Almost yelling, she asked in a dangerous voice, "You think I want to be at the morgue because I want to dissect people? If that was all that waited for me there, I'd have all of next week off too. What if someone needs help, and I'm not there to hear them?"

He held up his hands, in a placating manner. "Sorry, it's just…" He looked down. "He could have done much, much worse. I just worry."

Tru's eyes softened, and she gave him a hug around the shoulders.

"I'll be okay." She said, both to Davis and herself.

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Tru straightened and sighed. "Well, Mr. Peterson, it looks like you died of a heart attack." She muttered, writing it down as her final report.

Davis watched her. She knew it. She knew that he was just worried about her. That didn't stop it from being damn annoying. Putting a smile on her face, she called, "Alright Davis, I'll have my break now. I'll be in the office if you need me."

Like the last three days when she had taken her break, he asked, "Do you want to go home?"

She shook her head in exasperation. "No. I'm going to complete my shift. Like I did yesterday. And the day before. And the day before that."

She heard him sigh, but ignored it. Walking over to the small fridge, she pulled out an apple. When she had finished, she lay her head back against the cool brick wall. Closing her eyes for a moment, she let the silence of the morgue wash over her, interrupted only by the soft voice of Davis talking into a voice recorder in the other room. The sound lulled her, and she drifted off, thinking _just for a moment._

MgMgMgMgMgMgMgMgMgMgMgMgMgMgMgMgMgMgMgMgMgMgMgMgMgMgMgMgM

Davis walked into his office, finished report in hand. Mr. Roberts had died from a knife wound to the chest. Seeing Tru, he frowned. She was asleep, but it didn't look too peaceful. Her teeth were gnashing, and her eyelids fluttered. Low moans escaped her throat. He sighed, moving over to her. He didn't know whether it was right to wake someone from a dream, but he didn't want her to go through any more pain than she already had.

Walking over, he shook her shoulders. "Tru," He called quietly. "Tru, wake up. Come on, it's just a bad dream."

She thrashed when he touched her, and he copped a punch to the face for his troubles. Gasping awake, she saw Davis with a hand to his nose. Realising what had happened, she sat gaping for a few moments as he massaged his sore nose. "Dru, whads da madder? Whad's wrong?"

Her eyes flickered around, as though she wanted to escape. Finally, she realised she was crying. Davis moved to hug her, and the walls finally collapsed. "I- I've been having nightmares. About Jack…"

He frowned. "Since when? The attack?"

She shook her head. Whispering, she answered. "Before. Almost every night for over a month now… he-" She broke off and buried her face in his shoulder. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she continued, her voice muffled somewhat by his shirt. "He kills me, Davis."

She felt him stiffen, even as his hold on her tightened. "He won't ever hurt you again Tru."

She nodded and pulled away. "Sorry I wet your shirt again. These past few weeks though…"

He nodded. They had been hard on her, and it showed. Finally calmed down, Tru sniffed. "You know what, Davis? I think I will go home. I'll see you tomorrow."

He stood up and grabbed his coat. "I'll walk you-" Before he could even finish the sentence, a

EMT walked through the door, pushing a stretcher in front of him.

Calling loudly, the young man announced, "Delivery!"

Tru and Davis shared a glance. He sighed, and she stood in the corner, staring at the corpse. _Will she ask for help?_ She wondered. No other corpses had since the attack. It was almost as though they knew she wasn't strong enough, not yet. After ten minutes of staring at the body, she sighed. And neither would this corpse.

Grabbing her coat, she said a quick goodbye to Davis, who was now wrapped up in Miss Jacobs, who looked like she had died of a coronary.

Walking outside, she looked around, nervous. She had never made a habit of walking outside at night time, and she was even more uncomfortable now. She hurried, her pace quickening. She looked around once again, and seeing the street deserted, walked faster, down the ten blocks to her apartment.

About halfway there, a voice told her to freeze. Letting out a small gasp, her eyes widened. Shaking, she started to turn around. Something cold and sharp was held against her back. She held her arms up.

"Give me the bag." A gruff voice demanded.

She hurriedly took it off and handed it to the proffered hand. She noted that the hand was dirty, calloused, and black. _This isn't Jack then_. A distant part of her mind registered, even as her mind clouded with fear. The man gave her a shove and she went sprawling on the ground, the sound of his footsteps echoing along the deserted street.

Tru didn't get up. She just pulled her knees up to her chin and sat there, in the middle of the pavement, heedless of the fact that the man could come back and finish the job. She didn't know how long she sat there, tears streaming silently down her face. Before she knew it, she heard a shout, and feet stamping their way hurriedly towards her. Glancing up fearfully, she was confused to see Davis skid to a stop before her, a worried look on his face.

"Tru, what happened?" He asked, slightly breathless.

She opened her mouth to explain, but a small squeak was the only thing to come out. Swallowing, she tried again. "I- I was mugged." She managed to whisper. Looking up, detached, she asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I was checking on you…" Looking determined, he pulled her to her feet, hugging her shoulders and leading her to her apartment building. "Let's get you inside."

Opening the door with the set of keys she had given him, he led her to the couch and sat her down. He walked over to the phone and called 911, while he watched Tru sitting, catatonic, on the couch. He explained the situation to the operator, and hung up, still staring at Tru.

She sat there, eyes open and staring into space. When he placed a glass of water in front of her, she took a few moments to register its presence before taking a small sip. Davis was starting to get worried. There was a knock on the door, and he turned to let in Officer Philips, the man handling the assault case against Jack.

"Miss Davies." The officer started quietly. When she looked up slowly, he asked, "Can you tell me what happened?"

She nodded slowly. She told her story in a whisper. "I was walking down the street, coming home early from work… About half way here I heard some one tell me to freeze. When I tried to turn around he stuck a knife to my back… he asked for my bag, and when I gave it to him, I saw his hand…"

She drifted off, detached. The officer shared a worried glance with Davis. "Was it Jack? Did you recognize the voice?"

Tru shook her head slightly. "The hand was black. And dirty. I think it was a homeless man…"

The officer nodded. "Alright, I think you should get to a hospital, get checked out."

Tru shook her head even as Davis nodded. A slight spark returned to her eyes as she refused. "No, no hospitals. I'm fine."

The officer looked about ready to argue, but thought better of it. Patting her on the shoulder, he said, "Get some rest. I'll speak with you tomorrow sometime about the progress with the case."

She nodded, but didn't get up. Davis showed him to the door, and helped Tru to stand. Regaining some of her old personality, she tried to give him a smile, but it ended as a wobbly grimace. "I'm fine, Davis. I'll be fine."

He almost laughed, but thought better than it, leading her to her bed. She lay down, pulling the covers up over her clothes. Drifting off, she held Davis' hand with a death grip. He sat, watching in concern, until her grip finally loosened. Trying to free himself, he stopped when she stirred, brow creased with a frown, until he settled back in his seat by her bed. Stroking her hair gently, he tried to make himself comfortable, settling in for the night.


End file.
